


Good Times, Not Long Times

by FleetSparrow



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, they're OK tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 13:56:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12014184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: Dick and Damian muse on death, life, and spy things.





	Good Times, Not Long Times

**Author's Note:**

  * For [geckoholic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geckoholic/gifts).



After playing hooky from SPYRAL the first time, Dick found himself yearning to return to Gotham and see his family again.  When Dick had come back, he had been elated to find Damian alive and well, the same state Damian had been surprised to see Dick in.  They had not had much chance to talk then, but Dick was determined to change that now.  Family was most important.

Dick had actually given Helena notice of his soon to be AWOL status this time.

After the fact.

About three hours into patrolling Gotham.

And after receiving a scathing death threat from Tiger (“One day, Dick Grayson.  It's coming sooner.”)

Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

As the city quieted down, Dick took his break on top of the Daggett Building in the downtown business quarter.  It wasn't as tall as the Wayne Enterprises tower, but it gave a decent view of the lower corners of the city.  He pinged Damian on a private channel and left the key open, content to wait until he arrived.

Autumn in Gotham was by waves beautiful and hideous.  The downtown smog filled in thick on the ground, but up above it, the air was crisp and relatively clear.  Perfect flying weather.  He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.  He'd missed this old city.

Dick was close to dozing when Damian silently dropped down beside him.

“Grayson.”

The corner of Dick's lips curled up, his eyes still closed.  “No names in the field, Robin, remember?”

“I don’t have your new codename,” Damian admitted.

“Agent 37.  I'm working on raising it.”  Dick tapped the concrete beside him for Damian to sit.  “Busy night?”

“No.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.  It was comfortable silence, one that reminded Dick of their time as partners, as  _ the _ Batman and Robin.

“What was it like for you?” Damian asked suddenly.

“What was what like?”

“Death.”

Dick took in a sharp breath.  Just right out, then.  “Which time?”

Damian stared hard at him beneath his mask.  “You’ve died before?”

“Once before.”

Damian cocked his head, waiting for Dick to continue.  Dick leaned back on the ledge.

“Before you came to us, there was a...Crisis.  I was shot by Alexander Luthor -- not  _ our _ Lex Luthor, but -- it’s a long story -- and, well, died.  I saw Red Hood -- this was back when he was Robin, before he came back to life -- and he sort of led me through my life up to that point.  What I’d done, what I’d missed.  The next thing I know, I’m waking up and everything’s normal again.”

Damian frowned, his young face looking too somber for his age.  Dick watched him for a moment.  When Damian didn’t react, Dick looked back out over the city.  He still didn’t know what his vision had meant, or even what it was.  Barbara had explained it as a hallucination caused by his brain from the trauma it experienced.  Raven believed who he saw  _ was _ Jason coming back to keep Dick close to life.

“I didn’t see anything.”

Dick started.  He’d been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he almost missed what Damian had said.

“I just knew I was dead and then Father brought me back,” Damian continued.  “Perhaps my life was too short for a guide.”  Dick reached over and rubbed Damian’s back.

“Maybe it doesn’t always happen,” Dick said.  “When Lex Luthor killed me -- our Lex Luthor, this time -- I didn’t see anything either.  It was like blinking.  One moment dark, the next, I'm back.”  He glanced over at Damian and added with a chuckle, “Now that I say it, I guess I have bad luck with the Luthor family.”

Damian didn’t laugh.  “Why was it different the second time?”

Dick shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Maybe because it wasn’t meant to be permanent.  Maybe there wasn’t time.  It was really quick, according to B.”

“I had time,” Damian said.  “Maybe it was because my death  _ was _ supposed to be permanent.”

Dick’s breath caught in his throat.  He didn’t want to believe that was true, he  _ couldn’t _ believe it, because that would mean Damian was only on borrowed time.  He was too young for that.  But, at the same time, Dick had been asking himself the same question since his last brush.  Maybe the last Luthor’s death plan was supposed to be permanent.  Ultraman had planned his death trap to be.

But then, with the work they did, maybe they were  _ all _ on borrowed time.

He wrapped his arm around Damian, pulling him into a half hug.  “Have you talked to Red Hood about his experience?”

Damian pursed his lips, but didn’t move out of the embrace.  “No.  He’s not as easy to ask as you are.”

Dick smiled.  “I try my best.”

He jostled Damian playfully.  “Hey, enough dark things.  What say you and I patrol.  You can see how my Hypnos works.”

Damian looked up excitedly.  Behind his mask, his eyes flashed with a challenge.  “You may have gotten weak, Grayson, relying on all your spy things.  It’s a good thing I’ll be with you.  I can watch over you.”

“Oh yeah?”  Dick hopped up to his feet, not even wavering on the ledge.  “You’re on, Robin.”

Damian grinned and climbed to his feet, less graceful than the trained acrobat, already with the powerful movements of Bruce.

“What should I call you in the field?” he asked, before looking up at Dick.  “Agent 37 sounds odd--.”

Dick was now dressed in his Nightwing costume, complete with mask.  He smirked.  “Hypnos is pretty cool, isn’t it?”

Damian stared, caught in awe before shaking it off with a -tt-.  “Show off.”

“That’s me!” Dick laughed.  “Big old picnic ham.”

Damian frowned.  “What does a picnic have to do with you?”

Dick laughed full and loud, ruffling Damian’s hair before leaping off the building like he was performing a graceful swan dive for an audience.  The sound of his laughter floated up to Damian, guiding him on his way down.

Damian shook his head.  “Grayson,” he muttered, a small smile betraying his attempt at frustration.  He flipped off of the ledge, grapple gun in hand, and let the wind bring out his laughter.

Just like old times.

**Author's Note:**

> This was really fun to write. Hope you like it!


End file.
